Somnambulist
by J.W.Melmoth
Summary: Sebastian wakes up and tries to remember what happened the night before. Warning: cheezy pick-up lines. Set in NY sometime after Blaine and before Adam. Written for a self-set Kurt Hummel challenge to include 1 random dictionary word per day for 30 days. Dictionary word: Somnambulist.


Written for a self-set Kurt Hummel challenge to include 1 random dictionary word per day for 30 days. Dictionary word: _Somnambulist._

**Pairing:** Kurtbastian  
**Words:** 1150  
**Genre:** silly  
**Rating: **PG**  
Summary:** Sebastian wakes up and tries to remember what happened the night before. Warning: cheezy pick-up lines. Set in NY sometime after Blaine and before Adam.

**Somnambulist**

Sebastian woke up with a groan and reached for his head. Surprisingly, it didn't even feel that heavy. The rest of his limbs, however, did. The nearly comatose sleep that had pulled him under had been the healthy exhaustion of physical exercise rather than alcohol (this time). Sebastian kept his eyes closed as he wordlessly congratulated himself for having sex until he passed out- and in his own bed. That was always a big plus, as it saved a lot of time in the morning. He stretched luxuriously, rubbing his sore shoulders against the sheets (they ached like he had been doing push-ups- but then maybe he had). As he spread his arms out on the mattress, he opened his eyes and noticed a silk tie dangling from his wrist. Okay… that was a little unexpected. He idly fingered the Dalton stripes and wondered if he had ended up with his schoolboy-fetish neighbour again. It wouldn't be the first time Sebastian had come home from some party or other only to find the young English teacher smoking on their shared balcony, waiting for company. But something felt different. He ran his tongue over his teeth. They felt smooth. His mouth tasted minty, with a slight bitter aftertaste. Since when did he brush his teeth after coming home from a party? Sebastian sat up and took in the state of his bedroom. The window was opened, letting in a slight breeze, and his clothes were hanging on a clothes' hanger on the door of his closet. A neatly folded pair of red chinos and a shirt lay stacked on his chair, with a smart leather jacket hanging down the chairback. He blinked. They were definitely not his. Was someone still here?

"Hello?" he croaked out, his voice a little rough. There was no answer. Sebastian pulled the sheets off himself and swung his long legs out of bed. Whoever it was, they would have to leave right now. He didn't like it when guys stayed over- especially uninvited. He didn't bother finding his underwear (whoever was here had already seen him naked anyway, and he wasn't self-conscious about his body) and made his way to the small living room. The sight at his desk jolted his memory. Flashes of last night presented themselves.

* * *

_"__Well, I see your taste in wardrobe has improved."_

_"__I see your taste in men hasn't."_

_"__Says the guy who dated a gel-factory."_

_"__To the guy who tried to get him into his bed."_

_"__Only to see if I could."_

_"__And you couldn't, could you?"_

_"__Touché."_

* * *

_"__I think you had enough to drink."_

_"__There's no such thing."_

_"__Oh, there is, trust me. I've thrown up on a teacher once."_

_"__Ha! Right. Like you would ever do something naughty in your life."_

_"__You'd be surprised."_

_"__Would I?"_

* * *

_"__So what's a pretty boy like you doing all alone in a place like this?"_

_"__Oh God, Sebastian, please stop it. You don't have to rub my nose in it."_

_"__In what?"_

_"__You know what. That I am here by myself. That no one is even remotely interested enough even to use such a pick-up line. Why don't you just go get your 20-minute fix somewhere and let me be?"_

_"__I was being serious! I'd totally use that line on you."_

_"__You just did."_

_"__Yeah. Is it working?"_

_"__I'm not a 20-minute kind of guy, Sebastian."_

_"__I've worked on my stamina since high school."_

_"__God, you're drunk."_

_"__And you're pretty."_

* * *

_"__Wanna share my cab?"_

_"__Cabs are boring. What else have you got? How about your bed?"_

_"__Fat chance."_

_"__How about mine?"_

* * *

_"__Don't."_

_"__Why not? Against your moral code?"_

_"__You taste like cigarettes. It's gross."_

_"__You taste like dental floss."_

_"__I have extraordinary dental hygiene."_

_"__Want me to go brush my teeth?"_

_"__It would certainly help."_

* * *

_"__Okay?"_

_"__Yes… yes…oh yes…"_

* * *

_"__I guess you want me to brush my teeth again now?"_

_"__Mm… no, this okay."_

_"__So maybe you are kind of naughty after all."_

_"__Maybe I am. Do you still have your Dalton uniform?"_

* * *

The more memories resurfaced through the haze of Sebastian's mind, the more he wished he had taken the time to find his underwear before coming out of the bedroom. It was kind of hard (literally) to kick someone out when it was obvious his body wanted to go for another round. He heard the shower turn off and figured Kurt would be getting out soon.

While he waited, he took in the state of his room. "What the fuck-?" he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face and looking twice. Sebastian's desk, which was usually strewn with paper, books, pens, plates of half-eaten sandwiches, coffee mugs and potato chips crumbs, was now completely cleared away, his things stacked on neat piles in the corners. The old magazines had disappeared from the sofa and the pile of trash by the tv was gone. He focused back on his desk. It looked huge without the mess on it. What has happened to all of his stuff? Had they pushed it aside? He didn't remember anything about his desk being a stage to their passion, but the whole thing was kind of a blur. But if they had, shouldn't it be on the floor?

As he leaned down to peer under the desk, Kurt padded into the room, wearing a towel around his hips and one wrapped around his hair.

"Looking for something?" he asked cheerfully.

"What the hell happened to my desk?"

Kurt looked down on it. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's _clean_. And so is the rest of the room. And my clothes are airing out and yours are folded- what's up with that? Are you like, a compulsive somnambulist cleaner?"

Kurt made a face. "I don't sleepwalk. And I certainly don't sleep-_clean_," he protested. "And thanks for the stereotyping. Why do you think_ I_ was the one who did it? Maybe you did it yourself and you were just too drunk to remember."

Sebastian was about to tell Kurt there was no way he could have been _that_ drunk when he did a double-take. Suddenly something else trickled through the fog.

* * *

_"__This place is a mess."_

_"__It's a bachelor pad, what did you expect?"_

_"__More ceiling mirrors, less dirty laundry."_

_"__Ceiling mirrors, huh? Tell me more…"_

_"__You should really clean up."_

_"__Whatever. In the morning, okay?"_

_"__No, I'm thinking now. This is a deal-breaker, Sebastian."_

_"__Seriously?"_

_"__It's a huge turn-off. I'm not taking off my clothes in here, there isn't even a place to put them!"_

* * *

Sebastian looked at Kurt in disbelief. "You made me brush my teeth _and_ clean up my place before you put out?"

Kurt chewed on his grin. "It was worth it though, wasn't it?"

Sebastian's smile turned sly. "Maybe I need a reminder. I seem to have trouble recalling last night."

Kurt grinned back. "Well, the desk _is_ very clean now."


End file.
